It all began on a quiet camping afternoon—the day I made the biggest mistake of my youth.
I tried to bully her.
At that time, I thought it was harmless teasing, nothing more than playful words meant to get a laugh from others. But when I saw her turn away, shoulders shaking, tears quietly falling, something inside me shattered. My chest tightened as if my heart itself had been wounded. It felt strange… painful… as if her tears were flowing through my own veins.
That was the moment everything changed.
That was the moment my love for her began.
That night, while the fire crackled and the stars hung low above us, her big sister and her sister's boyfriend started teasing us. They laughed, nudging each other, pretending to "ship" us together like it was some harmless joke. They had no idea that inside me, something serious had already taken root. They didn't know that on that very first day, I had already fallen for her.
She was my churchmate. Every Sunday after that camping trip, I would see her sitting quietly in the pews, her presence alone enough to make my heart race. But instead of getting closer, I grew afraid. Afraid to speak. Afraid to look foolish. Afraid she would remember what I had done.
So I avoided her.
Yet even while avoiding her, I couldn't stop caring.
Whenever she hung out with my sister, I made sure to stand straight, fix my hair, adjust my shirt—anything to look presentable. I didn't want her to see the worst version of me. I wanted to be someone worthy of her gaze.
Slowly, I became curious about everything.
Her favorite songs.Her favorite food.Her hobbies.Her favorite color.Her favorite movies.
Every small detail felt important, like pieces of a puzzle I desperately wanted to complete.
In church class, I began paying more attention than ever before. Not because I suddenly became holy overnight, but because I wanted to impress her. I wanted her to notice me—not as the boy who made her cry, but as someone who had changed.
She had a best friend back then. A male best friend. And I knew he had feelings for her, too.
That's when competition entered my heart.
Every weekday, seminary class became a silent race. Who would arrive first at church? Who would sit closer to the front? Who would catch her attention first? I pushed myself harder, waking up earlier, walking faster, hoping—just hoping—that she would see my effort.
And she did.
That was when she realized I had feelings for her.
Months passed, and soon our church gathering arrived. All the youth were invited, including her. That night was Social Night—the kind filled with music, laughter, and lights that made everything feel magical.
When I saw her that evening, my breath stopped.
She looked beautiful in the outfit she wore. Not just beautiful—but radiant. As if the whole room softened around her presence.
I didn't hesitate.
I walked toward her and asked her to dance.
As we moved to the rhythm, I saw her smile up close. In that moment, the noise disappeared. The crowd faded. The music blurred into silence. All I could see was her.
And for the first time, a dangerous thought crossed my mind.
I could see her as my wife.
That night, I confessed everything.
I told her how I felt. I apologized for the pain I caused her. I admitted my mistakes. My heart pounded so loudly I thought she could hear it.
I expected anger.
But she only smiled softly and said, "We're still young. Maybe these feelings will pass."
Her words hurt—but they were gentle. Honest. Kind.
The next day, I prepared a song for her.
Its title was "Hanggang Kailan."It meant waiting. Hoping. Loving from afar until the right time comes.
When I sang it, I didn't expect her to fall in love with me. I only wanted to make her smile. Because even if my love was one-sided, even if I was the only one carrying these feelings, I was satisfied knowing she understood my heart.
Months later, we had our Temple trip.
She was there too.
Every time I saw her walking outside the temple, dressed in white, my heart would skip a beat. The sunlight touched her dress softly, making her glow.
And once again, my imagination betrayed me.
It felt like I was looking at her on our wedding day.
I knew it was just a dream.
But dreams are where love is born.
And that was where my love truly began.